Another Numb Tuesday
by GoodCompletedTwiFic
Summary: She hates Tuesdays. He hasn't been home in 8 years. Somehow, they heal each other. Completed one-shot.


**Story Title:** Another Numb Tuesday  
**Spoilers:** This is the part I'm really bad at…  
**Rating:** PG is pushing it, but there's some kissage.   
**Couple:** Eli/Grace  
**Summary:** Grace doesn't like Tuesdays. Eli doesn't like going home. Lily brings them back together.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Disclaimer:** Once and Again is owned by ABC and various other people - none of them being me. Therefore, I disclaim. Jakob Dylan was my first celebrity crush, so I used his name – please don't sue me?  
**Author's Note:** The idea for this story came from Esra. I haven't written anything E/G since I finished _A Broken Road_, but I thought it'd be fun. So this one's for her.

* * *

It happened on a Tuesday. Grace remembered because for months afterwards she had difficulty getting out of bed on Tuesdays. She always expected her mother to come into her room, a smile on her face and stern words warning her if she didn't get up soon she'd have to walk to school. Of course Lily Manning would never follow through on that threat.

It was six years ago this week – the anniversary fell on Friday this year – since the glue that held them all together was killed in a freak car accident. Grace Manning always mourned her mother on a Tuesday. Those were her sacred days. It also meant she wouldn't have to fly home until later this week. She wouldn't have to see Rick, her dad, or Zoë until then. For a little while longer she could hold onto her private pain.

As each year passed, Grace noticed that it never got any easier. She'd been through therapy and support groups and they all advertised that the pain would eventually go away. She'd sat and listened aptly as others who'd lost love ones described the numbness that eventually healed their soul. It gave her hope. Knowing somehow, someway she wouldn't _feel_ like this anymore… it was her salvation.

Only that day never came. There were still mornings when she couldn't get herself out of bed. When she was a teenager, Grace came to terms with death. She'd been there when her grandfather passed away. Even if his death was unexpected, it was easier to accept. He'd been in his sixties and problems with his heart had sidelined him for years. That was what Lily told herself, so it was what her oldest daughter believed.

That wasn't the case with her mother. At the time of the accident, Lily Manning was in the best shape of her life. After giving birth to a healthy baby boy, she'd worked hard getting her body and diet under control. Grace remembered because she was often dragged along to _Weight Watchers_ meetings, or whatever the fad was at the time. She grumbled, but often went along with it. Her mother was her best friend.

In the last six years, she'd moved quite a bit. The brunette struggled to find a place that felt like home (all the while denying where home really was). She returned to Chicago for special occasions (weddings, funerals, holidays, etc.) and often insisted that others visit her. Jessie and Zoë would visit regularly, but Grace was sure they were more interested in seeing the sights than her. She never complained too much because the two of them were always a nice break from the monotony of her life.

For two of the last six years she'd been living in New York. She'd stayed in Chicago long enough to finish up her Masters at Northwestern, but no longer. As time passed, Grace found that she no longer considered the city home. She graduated with a Masters in forensic sciences and was recruited by several of the best crime labs in the country. After some consideration and encouragement from Rick, she'd accepted a position in Las Vegas. She'd worked there for just over a year, under one of the most successful criminologists in the country, before she moved on to Los Angeles. Grace also spent some time in Dallas and Washington, D.C., before settling in New York. There were a lot of similarities between New York and Chicago, giving her the best sense of home she'd had in a long time. This city was different, because she didn't want to leave. Twice in the last year she'd been offered positions in other cities, and she'd turned down both opportunities. Something about New York wouldn't let her leave.

At least for a few more days. Thursday afternoon she would fly back to Chicago, but until then she had work. Her vacation days wouldn't start until after her twelve-hour shift on Monday was finished, and until then she couldn't allow herself to think about the upcoming anniversary. Work helped her find that numbness, even if it was only temporary.

* * *

When the alarm went off at 5:15 a.m., Grace rolled over and glared. She felt like she just went to bed. The brunette hated the Sunday shift more than anything. Instead of her normal hours (mid-morning until late-night) she worked day shift. Despite the fact she'd only gotten home and into bed five hours ago, it was time to go back in. She thought about hitting the snooze, but thought better of it. Only two more shifts and she'd have some time off.

The young woman groaned as she got out of bed. She made a mental note to take a long, hot bath as soon as she got home. She needed something to work out all of the kinks in her muscles. However, right now she barely had time for a shower. Day shift started at 6:45, which gave her about forty-five minutes if she wanted to be on time. Grace considered not showering, but decided against it. In her mind, she could still see the prostitute they'd pulled out of a dumpster last night. The feeling had yet to leave her and she hoped another scalding shower would help.

An hour later, as she was leaving her apartment building, her beeper went off. Cursing, Grace checked the number. She called her supervisor who immediately sent her to a building in the uptown area. He told her this would be a high priority case and she needed to get there before the media did. When she hung up, she cursed again, loudly. So much for that cup of Starbucks she was hoping would help clear her head. It would have to wait.

When she arrived at the East Village co-op, Grace was relieved to see the media hadn't arrived yet. With an address like this, Grace knew it was only a matter of time before the vultures showed up asking questions. She was still have a hard time accepting it – her boss had indicated on the phone that a neighbor heard some shouting, then what sounded like gunfire, and finally someone fleeing the scene. He'd checked next door and found Annabelle Butler, society princess and heiress, lifelessly on the floor, a gun in her hand, and a bullet casing surrounding her. The neighbor called the police from her phone in the apartment.

Because he found the body, Grace would have to interview him. It wasn't her favorite part of the job, but it was something she accepted. A long time ago she discovered that evidence and crime scenes often gave more away than people did. But, there was a long-standing rule in homicide that murderers sometimes stuck around to watch someone else clean up their handy work. It was possible that this Good Samaritan was about to become suspect number one.

At the victims' front door there was a uniformed officer, but Grace was relieved to see no police tape in sight. The officer would certainly look suspicious, but hopefully the neighbors wouldn't immediately jump to the conclusion that the occupant was dead inside. The more time she had without the media the better. Once inside, Grace was surprised to see the police chief and a man wearing an FBI jacket. They waved her over and Chief Ferguson introduced the federal agent as Nick Mortenson. Apparently the victim's father was a close, personal friend of the director of the New York bureau. Once James Butler got news of his daughters' murder, he called the director, who in turn called Nick.

What Grace couldn't figure out was why they called _her_. If the FBI would be lead on this case, then why was she needed? Surely they had their own crime scene analysts who they could trust more. It was a surprise that NYPD would be involved at all, given the high profile of the victim. With all the bad press surrounding the force, she assumed they wouldn't want city police officers anywhere near this case. It looked like she assumed wrong.

"Ms. Manning?"

The brunette pulled herself from her thoughts and focused on the handsome blond haired man in front of her. "Yes?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

Grace blushed guiltily, as she hadn't been listening. "Sorry, I was just… studying the details of the scene."

The special agent smiled knowingly. "I see. An FBI criminologist will be lead on this case, but I'm sure she won't mind if you assist her. Right now, however, I need you to go next door to question the neighbor. He said he'd be home for another hour or so and I told him we'd get to him first thing."

She nodded. "What did he report again?" Grace took out her notebook and quickly scribbled down some notes. There was no need to walk into the interview with no knowledge, especially when it was available. If she had the basics, it would be easier to piece together any lies the neighbor might tell her. "Got it." She smiled tentatively at the agent before turning away. "If you need me, you know where I'll be."

Once outside Grace took a moment to collect herself. She ignored the look the officer was giving her, closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. It wasn't often that a man could effect her the way Agent Mortenson did. Her attraction to him was almost instant and a lot like what she felt for… "Stop it," she whispered. Thinking about her mother and life in Chicago always brought thoughts of Eli to mind. She hadn't seen her one time stepbrother in years. One morning they woke up and Eli wasn't there. He'd left sometime during the night and called two months later assuring their parents he was okay. Grace knew Rick still talked with him occasionally, but she had no desire to see him. Whatever feelings lingered beyond high school died when he didn't show up to her mother's funeral. It wasn't something Grace thought she could forgive.

After a moment Grace pushed those thoughts aside as well. Eli wasn't here now and she probably wouldn't ever see him again. There was no need to dwell, as it didn't help anyone. Especially not Annabelle Butler, who she needed to devote one-hundred-percent of her attention to. Taking one last deep breath, the brunette stepped forward and knocked on the neighbors' door. This would be as quick and painless as possible.

Except nothing could prepare her for what was waiting on the other side of that solid oak door. In all of her years of practice and school, Grace never considered having to face this situation. The neighbor? The Good Samaritan? It was Eli Sammler.

"Grace."

She took a step back and closed her brown eyes. She was sure she was seeing things. She _had_ to be seeing things. When she opened her eyes again, Eli wouldn't be standing there. It wasn't _possible_.

Only it was. "Grace," he repeated. He half-smiled at her. "What're you doing here?"

"Me?" she questioned. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I live here."

"Here?" Grace checked the apartment number from the file, curious if she was in the wrong place. No such luck. "You're the neighbor who called the police?"

He nodded. Eli glanced down at her notepad. "Are you working, or something?"

"Or something." She sighed heavily, unsure of how to proceed. There was really only one option. She had to do her job. Flashing her badge, she said, "I'm a crime scene specialist for the NYPD. I'm here to ask you a few questions. Mind if I come in?"

Eli felt his eyes widen. Grace was a _cop_? Dazed, he stepped aside. "Sure." He led her to the living room. "Make yourself at home."

The more she moved into his apartment, the more surprised she was. Eli lived comfortably. These apartments usually sold for at least a million dollars. His apartment was done in dark, masculine leather. In the corner she could see a state-of-the-art computer system. Grace had to stop herself from craning her neck to see the other rooms. "You live here?" she asked again.

"Yes. Have for three years now."

"Oh." She shifted uncomfortably. He'd been in New York the entire time she'd been in New York. They'd never once run into each other. Rick couldn't have known and neither could Jessie. One of them would have told her. "I'm just surprised."

He smiled at her again and Grace felt her heart flutter. "Yeah, me too. It's good to see you," he added.

She felt herself blush slightly. Taking out her notebook once more, Grace decided it was time to get on with this interview. "I just have a few questions for you."

Eli leaned back in the overstuffed leather chair. "Fire away."

* * *

Less than an hour later, the young crime scene specialist emerged from the posh apartment. Grace was silently pleased, as Eli retold the story exactly as her supervisor said. She wanted to mark him off the suspect list as soon as possible.

The older man walked her to the front door, intending to show her out. They stopped in front of the open door and Grace turned to face him. "You should call your dad. He'd like to hear from you."

He stiffened. "I'm not sure I can."

"Eli," she sighed. Grace dropped her police notebook to her side and looked at him. "He loves and misses you. Just… call him."

"Grace."

She held her hands up in surrender. "Look, I'm flying out Thursday morning. What if I give you my card and you can think about it? I won't tell him I saw you unless you say it's okay. You have to promise you'll think about it."

He was silent as he considered his options. Finally, he held out his hand. "Give me the card. I'll let you know."

Grace scribbled her mobile number on the back. "Think about it, E. You only have one family. That's a lesson I learned the hard way." She turned away from him and reached for the door. His arm stopped her and she looked back. "Yes?"

"I'm… I…" he began. Eli flushed and looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry about your mom. I know how important she was to you."

The brunette stilled, unsure how to respond. This was the one topic she wanted to stay away from. "Thanks."

"After I heard, I kept reliving my mom's car accident and her recovery afterwards. If she had died…"

"Yes," Grace cut in. "Mom wasn't as lucky as Karen."

"Grace."

"Eli, I think you're forgetting something." Her brown eyes hardened as she looked at him. "She might not have given birth to you, but she was your mother too. She thought of you as a son."

He was left standing there, her words ringing in his ears, when she turned around and left his apartment.

She arrived home twelve hours later, completely exhausted. She'd been working with Agent Mortenson on the Butler case all day. After interviewing Eli, she questioned some of the other tenants. They'd stopped and grabbed a burrito for lunch before their appointment with the medical examiner. There was no doubt Annabelle Butler was killed by the single gunshot to her left temple. The ME assured them she'd died instantly, but said it was unlikely it was a self-inflicted wound.

Grace had known that already. For starters, the gun was in her right hand. She _couldn't_ have shot herself. Then, there was the lack of gun shot residue. There was some on her clothes, but had she pulled the trigger her hands would have been covered. Because they weren't, it likely ruled out suicide. What Grace couldn't wrap her mind around was why the killer did such a bad job of staging.

Her guess was the killer was a lover or close friend, maybe even a family member, who shot Annabelle in the heat of an argument. Once it was too late, they realized what they'd done and did a rush job in covering up their crime. Grace knew from experience that these type of murders were often the easiest to solve. Predictably they left some telltale sign of their identity behind (perhaps a fingerprint on the gun?) or would soon confess. If she was right, and she hoped she was, the murderer would be in custody before her plane left on Thursday. After seeing Eli this afternoon Grace didn't want anything to keep her in New York longer than it should.

She was nearly asleep when someone knocked on her door an hour later. Tonight was one of the few nights she was able to sleep for more than five or six hours and she planned on taking advantage of it. Grace had decided to skip dinner in favor of sleeping. She wasn't expecting anyone, but it wasn't unprecedented that her boss would show up at her apartment, wanting to talk about the case. By this point, they might even have a suspect in custody. She answered the door with the intention of telling whomever it was to go away. Her boss wouldn't have to understand that tonight wasn't a good night for her.

Except it wasn't her boss. Eli Sammler showing up at her apartment door was the last thing she expected, especially after how they left things. Only he was there, casually leaning against the doorjamb. "Hi."

Her fingers tightened on the doorknob. "How'd you find out where I live?"

"I went to the crime lab."

This made her more defensive. "They don't give out my home information."

"I explained that I was Annabelle Butler's neighbor and I remembered something. I wanted to talk to the investigator who interviewed me earlier. Someone there offered to take my information and promised that you would call me later. I knew you would see through the ploy, so I stuck around until someone finally gave in. Here I am."

She couldn't believe her ears. Grace wasn't sure whom she wanted to yell at first: Eli for showing up at her home when she was still pissed off at him, or the idiot at work who gave out her private information! "Why didn't you just call?"

"I called a couple of times. Don't you check your messages?"

"Look, Eli—" she started. The brunette was exhausted. She wanted nothing more to go to bed, but she also knew if she sent him away she might never see him again. It would already be hard enough to face Rick and Jessie and not mention her encounter with Eli, she at least had to see why he did it. Finally, she stepped back and opened the door. "Come in."

The tall young man stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Grace led him to the living room and motioned towards the couch. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll be back out in a second."

He was flipping through _GQ_ magazine when she emerged from her bedroom a few minutes later. She'd changed from her flannel pajama pants and tank top into jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Eli looked up and smiled. "Were you going to bed?"

Grace sat in the chair across from him and started pulling on a pair of socks. "I was thinking about it."

"It's not even eight o'clock."

She shrugged. "I got about five hours of sleep last night. It's rare that I'm even home before eight o'clock, much less have the chance to be in bed by then. I decided to skip dinner and get some sleep."

"Oh." Eli crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back. Now that he was here, he was having a hard time deciding what he wanted to say. Seeing Grace earlier today had been a shock, but after it wore off, he decided it wasn't unwelcome. In the last several years he'd only spoken to his father or sister a handful of times. The last time he'd had a conversation with Grace they'd been in high school. At thirty years old, maybe it was time to mend some of those bridges. "I wanted to apologize for earlier. I was out of line."

"Yes, you were. But you didn't need to come by. You could have just called."

"I did," he reminded her. "You weren't answering. Look, Grace, I just… I didn't want to leave things like that between us. I figured out a long time ago that we can't control the things that happen. Sometimes they just happen. This morning I was totally unprepared for you walking back into my life. If you were in my situation, how would you have reacted?"

"I wouldn't have been in your shoes," the brunette answered. "I wouldn't have left in the first place." When he didn't answer her, she continued, "I don't know what you're doing here. I don't know why you came. Things were _fine_ before. You walked out on this family… so why not keep on walking?"

"You're the one who knocked on my door at seven this morning."

"I know." Grace stopped talking and stared at him. The part of her that would always be in love with Eli Sammler was thrilled that he was here. He was the first boy she'd ever really loved and she'd never completely let go. However, she didn't know the guy sitting in front of her. "What're you doing here?"

"I told you—"

"Not _here_, but in New York. What are you doing living in the East Village with an apartment full of leather furniture?"

"When I left Chicago, I came here. I wanted to be in a band and make albums. I did that for a little while, before I had to get a real job so I could pay rent. A friend got me an interview at Columbia Records and I was hired as a new talent developer. It's not what I planned for myself, but I do like it."

"And you didn't call? Or write? Do you have any idea how worried your family is? Did you even think about that?"

"Grace, I left after a huge fight with my dad. He wanted me to be someone that I wasn't and I couldn't be that person. I left, knowing that someday I would come back and make him proud." Eli watched her through his hazel eyes. He wasn't sure she got it. "I've talked to him since I left. He didn't know where I was, but he knew I was alive."

"You're his son, E. Knowing that you're _alive_ isn't enough. Besides, from where I'm sitting, you're pretty successful. Why haven't you gone back?"

He didn't have an answer for her, mostly because he didn't have an answer for himself. Eli didn't know why he hadn't gone home yet. "It doesn't matter, Grace. I'm not perfect and my dad knows that. I just… I wanted him to accept me for the person that I am, not the person he wanted me to be. I'll go home someday.

"What about you?" he asked. "Why are you here?"

"I work in the city."

"Why New York? Why not Chicago?" he pressed.

Grace studied him for a minute. This was Eli, the person she once told everything to. He was her brother, in the most unconventional of ways. "After Mom died, I couldn't be there anymore. For the last six years, I've changed jobs a few times. I've been in New York for two years. I like it here."

He nodded, understanding. "Yeah, the city is great. I love it here."

At 9:30 that night, Grace started yawning and found she was having a hard time holding her eyes open. Eli watched her struggle for a few minutes, wondering if she was going to kick him out. She didn't, so he decided it was time to go anyway. The brunette walked him out and now they were saying goodbye at the door. "I'm going home this weekend, but I'll be back after next Tuesday."

"What about dinner sometime this week? Tuesday?"

Grace stopped, and studied him. Of course, he didn't know this Tuesday was significant. "I can't."

"Wednesday?"

"Eli—"

"I know you said you were flying out Thursday," he interrupted her, "so it's either tomorrow or Wednesday. Your call."

She thought about turning him down, but right now she felt like that sixteen-year-old girl who loved him so much. Finally she smiled and nodded. "Tomorrow. It'll have to be late, though."

"How late?"

"Eleven?"

"Okay. Come by my apartment after work and we'll get something to eat." Grace went still when he raised his hand to her cheek. "It was good to see you, Gracie." Leaning down, he kissed her lips gently before turning and walking away.

* * *

Grace was still unsure about how she was supposed to feel tonight. She took the stairs instead of the elevator to give herself more time. Eli's kiss lingered on her mind and she couldn't help but wonder what he was about. After not seeing him for nearly eight years, his unexpected arrival in her life wasn't something she wanted to face. She'd come to terms with her feelings for Eli Sammler a long time ago, so why were they resurfacing now?

When she finally arrived and knocked, Eli answered quickly. Almost too quickly and the brunette wondered if he'd been waiting by the door. "Hi."

"Hey." He looked her over and smiled. "Rough day?"

"Something like that." When Eli stepped aside, she came into his apartment. "Would you mind if I used your restroom? I'd like to freshen up a little."

"No problem. Follow me." He led her to the only bathroom in the apartment. "Wait right here, I'll be back." A minute later he returned with a clean hand towel and washcloth. "If you need anything else, let me know."

Grace smiled gratefully. "This is perfect, thank you."

That night Eli took her to an Indian restaurant around the corner from his apartment. She was surprised when they walked, knowing she could never do something like that in her neighborhood. Of course, she didn't live in the Village. On the way he explained that he didn't have a car, or he would have driven her. Grace was a little surprised that he didn't have a car – he always seemed like the hot rod type to her, but she knew people could change. Eli Sammler wasn't the same person he used to be. That much was evident.

She was finishing up her second glass of wine when the topic came up. They'd already exhausted a number of topics, including who had the better basketball team: Chicago or New York. Grace was a firm believer that the heyday of the Knicks was long gone, and if the people of New York wanted a winning team they needed to look into moving the Nets to New York. Eli felt that Chicago would never regain the dominance it experienced with Michael Jordan and Phil Jackson. Eventually they agreed to disagree, both sticking resolutely to their opinions.

The brunette didn't know what to think when Eli asked her about her love life. She also didn't know how to answer. Grace could barely remember the name of her last boyfriend, much less what he looked like. "I'm too busy to date," she finally told him.

Eli wouldn't accept that answer – he was a firm believer that if there was someone you _wanted_ to date, then you would. "There's no one, then?"

She shook her head. "Nope. What about you?"

"I haven't been in a relationship in a long time, but I go out occasionally." He drained his wine glass, then held it up so the waiter would bring him another. "I'm surprised at you. I always thought you'd be married by now."

"Married?"

He nodded. "You're what, twenty-eight now? I sort of thought you'd find someone in college and then settle down. I figured you for the American dream type. Two point three kids and all that."

"Really?" she asked. "Why? Twenty-eight isn't exactly old, Eli. If I wanted those things, I could still get them."

"I know. This isn't the life I imagined for you, though. I thought you wanted to act or sing, or do something like that. Crime scene investigation, Grace? It's so… dark."

"It's science. I admit it wasn't what I always wanted to do, but it makes me happy. It pays the bills."

"What happens when it's not enough anymore? When you find someone you want to settle with, or you want to have kids? What do you do then?"

"My work isn't my life. Yeah, I work twelve-hour shifts, but I still have fun. I work a little more than fifty hours a week. I could cut back if I wanted, but right now I don't have a reason to."

"Don't you ever feel like life is passing you by?" he questioned. "Aren't you missing something while you're working those twelve hour days?"

"We all make sacrifices, Eli."

He could sense that this conversation was wearing thin and opted to change the topic. "I always thought I might be settled by now."

Grace was grateful for the subject change. "Really? See, I never thought that about you."

Eli frowned. "Why not?"

She laughed at his expression. "Partly because you wanted to be a musician and they're notorious playboys. Most of them anyway. And then, after you left, I never considered the possibility – I didn't want to think you'd get married without your family by your side."

"Oh."

"Not to bring up the subject again, it was just kind of what I thought."

"No, I could see that." They stopped talking as the waiter refilled both of their glasses and cleared the table. Eli took another long swallow and then said, "I had a crush on you in high school."

The brunette felt her face grow warm. "Wh—what?"

"In high school," he repeated. "I sort of… well, you know."

"No, I didn't know." She laughed stiffly. "That's just… wow. I never even considered the possibility."

"No?" Eli asked. "Grace, I almost kissed you a couple of times. You _had_ to know."

"We were both high the first time and the second you were upset over Carla. I never gave either of them a second thought."

"And my jealousy?"

"What?"

"That teacher… the drama guy? I _hated_ when he was around. Not only was it completely disgusting, but I just didn't like the way he looked at you."

"Mr. Dmitri? Yeah, that was weird. I can't believe how stupid I was."

"Not stupid. You were young. He should have known better."

She shrugged. "I pressed the issue more than you know. It's not something I've thought about in a long time, though. It's not a really happy high school memory."

"I see." They sat in silence for a moment, Eli silently wording his next question. He didn't want to embarrass her, but there was something he needed answered. "Did you…did I…was I the only one with a crush in high school?"

"Huh?"

"I've been forthcoming about my crush, Grace. What about you?"

She blushed again. "I don't want to talk about this."

"C'mon, Gracie, tell me." Eli grinned happily. "You had a crush of your own, didn't you?"

Grace smile despite herself. "As if you didn't know."

"I knew." He took another drink from his wine glass. "Tell me, with both of us having crushes, how come things never worked out?"

"My first guess would be that our parents were married," she quipped.

"So?" he challenged. "It wouldn't have been wrong. Besides, we knew each other first."

"No we didn't. You never spoke to me until our parents started dating."

He rolled his hazel eyes. "Details. I knew who you were long before my dad knew your mom."

"I'll give you that." She took a long swallow from her own glass. Grace wasn't sure she wanted to know where this conversation was going. "Still, what happened between our parents, that was once in a lifetime. No matter what might have been between us at the time… it wouldn't have stopped them. They really loved each other."

"I know." Eli knew it was getting late and he wanted to ask her if he could see her again. She'd mentioned going back to Chicago this weekend, but maybe after she got home? Though he wasn't ready to admit it, he'd had more fun tonight than he had in a long time. "When will you be back from Chicago again?"

"Next Tuesday. I'm just going home for a long weekend."

"Oh," he paused. "Why?"

Grace shrugged. "Just some family stuff to deal with."

Eli leaned forward, concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"No. It's just something we do every year."

He couldn't remember any family tradition falling around this time of the year. It wasn't anyone's birthday that he could remember. "What is it?"

Her brown eyes were stinging with tears. She couldn't believe he didn't know. "Mom died six years ago this week."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Grace reached behind her and pulled her jacket on. "I think I should be getting home. It's late and tomorrow's going to be a long day."

"Right." Following her lead, Eli stood. He took a fifty from his wallet and dropped it on the table. "I'll walk you back to your apartment."

"No need. I can take a cab."

Somehow he knew she would say that. "I insist. You said earlier your neighborhood wasn't the safest."

"Eli."

"How about a compromise? I'll get you a cab, but I'm riding with you."

She knew he wasn't going to give in, so she finally relented. "Okay."

The ride to her building was relatively quiet. When they arrived, Grace hoped he would let her go in peace. Her hopes were dead when he slid out behind her. Eli handed the driver a bill and asked him to hold the cab until he got back downstairs. The man pocketed the money and told him the meter would still be running.

On the way inside, Eli put his hand on the small of her back. He didn't move it as they rode the elevator up or stopped in front of her door. In the last few minutes this had become suspiciously like a date and she wasn't sure she liked it. "Can I see you again?" he asked.

The brunette shrugged, trying to pretend she was non-committal. "We can do this again sometime."

"When?"

"I don't know."

Eli stepped closer, invading her personal space. "You'll be back on Tuesday? What about Wednesday?"

"Eli—"

"I'll probably be working."

"After you get off? Like tonight."

"I'm not sure if this is a good idea."

"Why not?" he questioned. "I thought you had a good time."

She looked up at him. "I did. Eli, I just don't think _this_ is a good idea."

"I just want to see you Grace."

"What about our family?" she asked. "I'm going to see your dad in a few days, Eli. I talk to your sister on the phone all the time. I can't _see_ you and not tell them. You have to understand that."

"I'm not ready to go back," he told her. "I don't want to face them."

"Why?" Grace pressed. "What're you so afraid of?"

Eli diverted his eyes from her face, afraid that his vulnerabilities were in his eyes. "I just don't think it's a good idea."

This time she pressed her hand to his cheek, turning it so she was looking in his eyes. "They love you and they want to see you. Even I can see that you have your life together and your dad will see that too. I don't know why you left, but maybe it's time to go back."

"Grace—"

She stopped his protest with a kiss. His mouth was warm and inviting, so she slipped her tongue inside, barely tasting him. It was something she'd wanted for over almost a decade, even though she'd never admitted it out loud. Eli Sammler was her Holy Grail. His arms wound around her back and he pulled her close. Her tongue retreated and he followed her, completely consumed by the woman in his arms. She was soft, with rounded curves where he was hard and angular. Her body fit perfectly against his.

When Grace broke the kiss, they were both breathing heavily. Eli kissed her lips once more, before resting his forehead against hers. His arms were still wound around her back. "What was that for?"

She smiled hesitantly. "It's something I've wanted for a long time."

"Do you—do you want me to send the cabbie home?"

Grace shook her head. She planted her hands against his chest and pushed gently. She could read the hurt and confusion in his eyes. "We can't do this and you know why. You have to go."

"I can't change your mind?" He kissed her again, keeping this one light and gentle, hinting at the promise of what was to come.

"Eli, stop." When their lips parted Grace stepped back, no longer touching him. "I can't do this. I won't do this."

He understood, even though he didn't like it. "Okay." Eli touched her cheek once more, before turning to go. "What time does your flight leave Thursday?"

She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Eleven twenty-five that morning. We'll have dinner again after I get back." Grace fished her keys out of her purse. "Thanks for tonight."

"I'll tell them," he promised her. "I'm just not ready yet."

"Okay." She turned away from him, not wanting to see the rejection on his face. Her body was rebelling against her and she was afraid if she looked at him for another second she'd give in and drag him inside. Considering what day it was, Grace knew it would be easy to lose herself in pleasures of the flesh. "It was good to see you, Eli."

"Yeah," he agreed. "I'll see you again, Grace."

The brunette stepped inside her apartment, but didn't close the door. She stood, listening as his shoes echoed on the stairs. Finally, when she couldn't hear them any longer, she closed the world out.

* * *

Grace Manning waited until the very last moment to board her plane. She thought he'd change his mind, but he obviously hadn't. His kisses had been on her lips since Monday night, but maybe it wasn't the same for him. She wondered if she would see him again, but knew it wasn't likely. She shouldn't have pressed him so hard about going home.

The young woman settled into her seat in coach and took out of her iPod. The flight wouldn't be very long and Grace was planning on sleeping through most of it. As more passengers continued to board, she was dismayed to learn that a family with a child was sitting directly behind her. The child sat in the middle and starting kicking the seat.

Instead of causing a disturbance, Grace opted to move over once. Unfortunately, the child decided he liked tormenting her and started throwing things over the seat. She thought she heard the mother admonish him as "Eli" and had to laugh. Of course, what perfect irony. She settled into her new seat and was intent on ignoring the little demon behind her. Closing her eyes, she got lost in her favorite music. Grace was almost a sleep when someone tapped her on her shoulder. Opening one eye, she was relieved to see that it was a flight attendant, and not a member of the family behind her. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry, but this is someone else's seat."

"Oh." Grace started to get up. She glanced over her shoulder at the child and suppressed a groan. He was still very much awake. "I was having some problems with my other seat, but I'll move back."

"No, wait here." The woman smiled warmly at her. "What if I check on an upgrade to business class? Our first class is currently full, but there are some seats available in business. It would afford you some privacy."

Grace returned her smile and nodded. "An upgrade would be great. Thank you."

The attendant left and returned a few minutes later. "Did you have any carry-on baggage?" Grace held up her purse. "Follow me."

She led her to two empty seats and Grace settled herself into the window seat. "This is perfect, thank you."

The older woman nodded. "If you need anything else, Ms. Manning, just let me know."

She was gone before Grace could ask how she learned knew her name. "Passenger log," she told herself. The brunette replaced her earplugs and closed her eyes.

When someone sat beside her, she kept her eyes closed. Her least favorite part of flying was take-off and she hoped to be asleep by the time it happened. When the stranger tapped her on the shoulder, Grace ignored them.

It happened a second time and she knew she couldn't pretend any longer. Removing her earphones, she turned to the person next to her. "Can I help—Eli?"

His hazel eyes smiled at her. "Hello, Grace."

"What are you doing?"

"This is a plane. When it takes off, I'll be flying."

"Where? Why?"

"Chicago," he answered. "I thought maybe it was time to go home."

"Really?"

Eli nodded. "Yeah. I thought about it and decided maybe you were right. I've been gone a long time and it'll be good to see everyone."

"Why now?"

"I don't think I can do this without you by my side."

"Eli."

He reached over and took her hand, interlocking their fingers. "Grace, I'm not asking you to marry me. I know you're not ready for two point three kids, but when you are, I want to be there. I… I can't get you out of my head. For eight years I've been walking away from everything – my dad, the family problems, and you. I don't want to do that anymore."

"I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. You don't have to make any decisions right now. Just promise me you'll think about it."

She nodded. When Eli tried to release her hand, she wouldn't let him. "No, it's fine. I don't like take off, so it'll help."

Eli smiled at her. "Okay."

Grace laid her head back and closed her eyes. She replaced her earphones and concentrated on the lyrics and the feel of Eli's hand in hers. A few minutes later he tapped her on the shoulder again. "What?"

"What're you listening to?"

She didn't bother to open her eyes. "Jakob Dylan."

"You know I convinced him to do a solo album, right? The Wallflowers hadn't had a successful album in years. He even mentions me in his 'thank you's."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He smiled, obviously proud of himself.

Grace couldn't help but laugh a little. She didn't like Tuesdays, but so far this Thursday was going okay. Maybe something good would come out of her mother's death after all.

Her eyes closed again, but she could feel him looking at her. "Eli?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to sleep now. Wake me when we get home."


End file.
